Dolphins are Evil
by Fwoggeh
Summary: Vince Noir, goth fairy, electro fan, king of the mods...MATHS TEACHER?
1. Quoting Tony

**Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh and all its characters belong to the two geniuses Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt. I think. Who actually owns that show? I may buy it when I win the lottery…**

**Good news everyone! I have a new story for you all! So, come with us now on a journey through time and space…to the world of the Mighty Boosh.**

"This is an outrage!" Horace Taylor, headmaster of St. Fred's secondary school cried, in a manner not unlike that of the mysterious pink shaman, Tony Harrison. Horace took time out from yanking great handfuls of his thinning hair from his scalp (and putting them neatly in his waste paper basket, of course) to glare at a familiar Goth fairy/electro fan/king of Mods. Yes, it was Vince Noir. The very Vince Noir we all know and love.

Vince didn't seem bothered by the large sweaty man screaming at him. In fact, he seemed to be taking it in his stride. He shifted around in one of the blue arm chairs that resided in the office and grinned guiltily. Fangirls swooned. "Honestly Sir, I didn't mean to knock the old bat unconscious-"

"Regardless!" Horace roared, choosing to ignore the fact that a member of his staff had been referred to as an 'old bat'. "Who even gave you permission to be on the school site anyway?"

"Well you see," Vince began. "My mate Howard, you know, Howard? Howard Moon, jazz maverick, colon explorer, little eys like a crab…"

Horace looked blank.

"Yeah, well, anyway, Howard thought that I should do something for the community, like he does his Jazz club- well, used to anyway." Vince closed his eyes for a moment and shuddered as he recalled that fateful night with the two Goth girls and Howard's attempts to be 'dark'. "At first I thought, nah, but then I had this great idea to do a presentation at the school!"

"I heard about that." Horace groaned. He picked up on of Vince's cue cards. "Mod versus Rocker warfare. A Presentation by Vince Noir." He looked up. "What on earth?"

"Kids need to be taught these things!" Vince persisted. "And being King of the Mods, I thought I'd be the one to teach them."

Horace sighed. "Mr Noir, I think the children are a little too young to remember the Mods-"

Vince clapped his hands to his ears "Don't say that!" He cried. "The Mod spirit will never die out! It's alive in all of us! Those kids have a Mod inside them. And I wanted to be the one to awaken their inner Mod…"

Horace stared in disbelief. "So as part of this presentation you demonstrated self defence…"

Vince nodded proudly.

"…On Mrs Hallam. Mrs Hallam, having no experience of self defence whatsoever, was knocked unconscious by you throwing a moped at her!"

Vince chuckled. "That'll teach her…"

Horace exploded (with a hell of a bang) "Mrs Hallam was almost sixty! Twenty years she'd taught at this school without a days illness! _She was to retire next month!_ Is ANY of this getting through to you?" He finished tiredly, as through this whole statement, Vince had sat, unruffled.

There was a silence, before Vince spoke up. "Twenty years? In one place? She seriously needed to get a life Mr Taylor, if you don't mind me saying…"

"Get out."

"I was only saying-"

"Get out!"

"Fine! This is why I didn't bother with the GCSE's…Teachers!" Vince tutted.

A sly look crossed Horace's features. "Oh Mr Noir!" He called, as Vince was halfway out the door. "I think we may have a way of you to pay off Mrs Hallam's hospital bills…"

"You WHAT!" Howard Moon, man of action cried. Vince was sat cross-legged on the floor in the kitchen eating a banana.

"You heard me." Vince replied. "I'm going to be taking over her class. It's only for a few weeks…"

Recovering slightly form the shock, Howard shook his head and reached down to pick up the shards of china from where he'd dropped his mug in shock. "So…what are you going to be teaching?" He said, fetching another mug. "Art? Music?" He tried to think of things Vince could actually teach.

Vince grinned. "Maths."

SMASH!

Meanwhile, back at the school…

"You WHAT!" The rest of the staff at St Fred's secondary School cried. Horace smirked around at them all, holding onto the lapels of his blazer.

"You heard me!" He replied smugly. "Vince Noir will be doing unpaid labour here at St. Fred's."

There was a clamour of teacher's voices.

"This is preposterous!"

"Horace, think of the children!"

"He has no teacher training whatsoever!"

"SILENCE!" Horace declared. "I am the Headmaster and what I say, goes. For example! Miss Kennet," He called to the English teacher. "Dance like a fish with knees!"

The teachers stared at him.

"Do it I say!" Horace insisted, and began to sing and clap a rhythm. "Cheese is a kind of meat, a tasty yellow beef…"

"I say Horace!" Mr Glebe, Science teacher and after school cricket coach (as you can see he was very upper-class) intervened. "I do think it's rather rotten to give this young Vince chap no pay, whatwhat!"

Horace glared. Which believe me, wasn't pretty. "Mr Glebe, the reason why I laid off all our regular supply teachers is that their wages were keeping me from buying new hot tub parts for the top-secret-staff-room-hot-tub! If we begin to pay this…Vince Noir, then we can no longer have Jacuzzi Tuesdays!"

The teachers went pale. Jacuzzi Tuesdays were the only bright spot in their otherwise meaningless lives.

Apart from BBQ Wednesdays…

And, of course, Sudoku Fridays.

"W-well, Horace, old chap!" Mr Glebe stammered. "When does he start the job?"

"Tomorrow." He told them. "So be prepared!"

"I didn't know you were in the boy scouts sir." Miss Kennet piped up.

"Indeed…" Horace mused. "Did dib dob and all that. But don't have too much faith in the boy. He's a mod…" Horace turned away from the others. "And I'm more of a rocker myself…"


	2. The Sparkly Tart has Landed

**Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit's another chapter, thank God we've got this far without an international incident…CUT TO BOOSH SCENE TRANSITION!**

The next morning, Howard was in his usual jazz trance when Vince entered the living room in usual, well it'd be better to say, usual unusual attire. Try saying that ten times over with a mouthful of mushrooms. But I digress.

"Howard, I'm off to the school." Vince called as he began to descend the stairs. Having no answer from his Jazz-Loving friend, Vince poked his head over the edge of the floor. "Howard?"

"De-bop. Scoo-bup.Bee-bup.Dee be-de…"

Oh dear. He'd started skatting. And no one needed that at the un-godly hour of…half eight in the morning…

Sighing, Vince climbed back up the stairs, fetched an air horn and sounded it straight into Howard's ear.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Snapping out his Jazz Trance, Howard gave a rather feminine squeal and fell over and a sort of a fit on the carpet.

"Oi, Howard," Vince said, looking down at him. "I'm off to the school alright? See you later."

Howard snapped to his feet. "You took me out of a Jazz Trance for that? I was in a delicate situation, I was getting down to some hardcore skatting…What on earth are you wearing?"

Vince looked down at himself. Most of his clothing was brightly coloured with sequins and beads and the like. "What are you on about?"

"You can't go and teach impressionable children dressed like that."

"What do you mean?" Vince protested. "This is the latest look form the scene, its retro, its cutting edge-"

"It makes you look a right doughnut if anything. What are you, a Christmas tree?"

Vince held up a warning finger. "You take that back."

Howard walked behind Vince and began pushing him back in the direction of his room. "Go and change into a shirt that won't give small children nightmares, trousers that you don't need to be sewn into, put a tie on and for Gods sake, get rid of the cowboy hat!"

"The hat is going nowhere!" Vince insisted as he tripped into his room and began rummaging through his many wardrobes. "Give me a hand Howard, School starts in half an hour!"

Howard went to the nearest wardrobe and braced himself for a clothes avalanche. Instead, he came face to face with a large lion and four children.

The lion spoke. "Greetings, Howard Moon. I am Aslan."

Howard slammed the door shut, fled from Vince's room and decided to never speak of it again.

_ And now for something completly different..._

It was a normal morning at St. Freds. After tutorial, the first lesson of the day was maths, and class 5C stampeded down the corridor and into the maths classroom. Bags hit the ceiling. Chairs flew across the room. Small fights began and ended, and the whole class settled down to engage in usual maths lessons activities whilst waiting for the teacher. Texting of friends, Poker and Connect 4 ensued.

I myself had just begun filing my nails when a boy near the door called to the rest of us. "It's Taylor! And he's got some sparkly tart with him!"

There was a scramble as the class jumped off desks into chairs, hid illegal substances in PE kits and in a few seconds, the entire class was sat quietly, hands clasped in front of us, the image of butter-wouldn't-melt.

Mr Taylor, our balding, morbidly obese headmaster waddled to the front of the class, looking pompous as usual. "Good Morning 5C!"

"Good Mor-ning Mis-ter Tay-lor." We chanted back, and an involuntary shudder ran round the room before making a daring leap out of an open window with a devil-may-care 'so long suckers!'

"As you may know, your usual Maths teacher, Mrs Hallam will not be in school for while-yes?" Mr Taylor said to a boy in the second row who had raised his hand.

"Is she dead?" He asked.

Mr Taylor's eyes bulged. "WHAT?"

"Is she dead?" The boy, hereafter known as Tom repeated, and then added; "If it's not too much of a personal question…"

"A personal question!" Mr Taylor squeaked. "It's none of your business, that's what!"

Whilst this was going on, the girl next to me, Simone whispered. "What happened to Old Hallam? I was at the dentist yesterday and missed assembly."

I informed her that the previous day's assembly had certainly been an education to us all and promised to give her full details at break.

"Therefore," Oh my goodness, did he ever shut up? "Therefore, it gives me great pl-…great ple-…great pl-" He punched himself in the chest to spit out the last word "Pleasure! To introduce, your new substitute maths teacher, Mr Vince Noir!"

It was at this point when we noticed that the 'Sparkly Tart' had entered the room. Many kids immediately booked eye tests for not noticing him before that point.

'Mr Vince Noir' as he'd been introduced had mid-length black hair, perched on top of which was a white cowboy hat. He also wore, a bright lime green shirt, with a glittery tie and quite tight trousers.

"He has quite tight trousers." Simone remarked. "Tighter than your drainpipes."

I was forced to agree as I rummaged through my bag in the hope that I had packed my sunglasses this morning, even though it was a cloudy day with temperatures of 15 degrees…

Mr Taylor told the new teacher that he'd leave it to him, and was there anything he needed?

'Mr Vince Noir' asked if he could have a cocktail.

"No."

I noticed that Mr Taylor was developing quite a nervous twitch there.

He slammed the door and we all sat in silence as his footsteps echoed down the empty corridor. More silence. We all just stared at each other. You could hear the clock ticking, and the far off noise of other lessons. A tumbleweed rolled past.

"Erm…alright? I'm Vince, and you can Y'know, just call me Vince, none of all that 'ooh Mr Noir, sir' stuff…" He trailed off and began to walk slowly down the classroom with his hands in his pockets. "So, um…teach, teach, teach…" He bent down and whispered to Tom. "What lesson is this?"

Tom sighed exasperatedly. "Maths!"

Vince laughed. "Oh yeah, I remember now." Suddenly the high pitched sound of a ringtone rang out across the room. Vince held up a hand, "Hang on, I'll just take this." He answered it and held it up to his ear. "Leroy! How you doing? Nah not much, oh yeah, remember, I'm teaching today…"

Amid much sighing and shaking of heads from the others, I took out my Travel Connect 4 and paced it between Simone and I. "Do you want to be red or yellow?"

**It can only go downhill from here…**

**Here be the space where I shall be answering reviews!**

**cookiemunster: Ha ha! Vince probably would have said something like that. Nanageddon has to be my favourite episode.**

**Radar-rox: Glad you enjoyed it! Mr Glebe is fun to write!**

**Until next time merry peeps, auf wiedersehn!**


	3. Dangerous Dave and the Tragic Hair do

**-Trumpet Fanfare- Chaaaaapteeeeer threeeeee! Yes it is, oh yes it is! –Starts dancing around- -trips over the coffee table- Um, I mean, that's quite enough of that…BOOSH SCENE TRANSITION! Owie…**

* * *

DRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!

Vince almost leapt out of his skin as the bell indicating the end of the lesson rang out. Picking himself off the floor where he'd landed, he noticed the students packing up their books and understood. He laughed in a self-conscious way. "Er…Great lesson guys!" He said, clapping his hands together. "See you later then!"

We trudged off to science and Simone plopped herself down at the desk next to me. "Foof!" She sighed.

I raised an eyebrow. "Foof?"

She nodded "Foof."

"He's a bit…strange isn't he?" Tom muttered, basically translating what 'Foof' meant.

I shrugged. "We've had stranger."

Vanessa, a particularly bitchy girl who sat behind me spoke up. "Nuh-UH! I think not!" She said. "I'm so telling my Dad about this. I mean…" She could have rambled on for ages about this so Tom got some tape out of his bag and slapped it over her mouth.

She looked so indignant and bemused that we had to laugh.

"I say chaps, button it why can't you, what what?" Mr Glebe reeled off as he entered the class room. He's crazy.

"You're right…" Tom muttered. "We have had stranger."

The lesson went smoothly, and the class got stuck into a practical. Test tubes and chemicals flew everywhere.

"Put another spoon full in." 'Dangerous Dave' who had unfortunately been put into our group hissed.

"Are you mad?" Tom inquired politely.

Dangerous Dave picked up the magnesium pot and tipped the whole lot in.

"OMGWTFOMGNOOOO!" Simone and I cried in unison. Smoke and sparks were all over the place, and the fire alarm went off.

"SINGLE FILE CHAPS!!!" Mr Glebe declared, waving his upper-class arms around wildly. "DO NOT PANIC!"

See? He **is** crazy.

* * *

Meanwhile, everyone's favourite jazz maverick/novelist/stamp collector Howard Moon was enjoying the peace and quiet of the flat. Bollo and Naboo had popped out to Shamensburys to pick up a few bits, Vince was teaching, and Howard was watching the Jazz Channel on free view. He was just getting into a hardcore trumpet solo, when his elbow knocked the remote and the channel switched to Shoreditch 12'o clock news.

"…_And finally, the candidates for Shoreditch's new MP were announced today."_ The blandly dressed newsreader said, adjusting her tragic hair do.

"Vince would have an epileptic fit at her…" Howard mused, supping tea.

"_Julie went to find out more!"_

"I bet she did…"

"_So, Mr, er…..**H**, have you got a message for your voters?"_

"_Vote fer me you slaaaaags!"_

Howard went pale, like crème fraiche. "It can't be-It's wouldn't…"

"_I'm a cockney geezer!"_

**

* * *

DUN DUN DUN!!!**

**Note: Dangerous Dave is a real person in my science class. Mr Glebe, sadly, is not.**


	4. Starring Rich Fulcher

**Things are really getting moving now. Mr Glebes class are firestarters, twisted fire starters, The Hitcher is back and Naboo and Bollo are yet to make an appearance -shockhorror- Not to worry, they'll pop up in the next chapter after this one. I'm really spoiling my lovely readers now. Two chapters in a week is a record for me fanfiction-wise.**

** BIG SPARKLY IMPORTANT NOTE: From this point on there will be references to both series 1 and 2 and also the Live show. If you havn't watched the live show, I suggest you pop over to youtube and find it. It's there. I've seen it myself on that fair website.**

* * *

Horace Taylor was at this time, playing miniature golf in his office. He was lining up to take a shot when a huge BANG caused him to hit the ball at an angle. The ball rebounded of the desk and flew straight at Horace, who ducked and the window behind him was smashed to smithereens.

Horace bent the golf club angrily. "NOIR!!!!" He roared, and set out to find the electro poof.

"NOIR!!" Horace cried, entering the classroom. Vince quickly swung his feet off the desk and picked up the nearest textbook. "And so guys, that would mean that m equals mc squared…"

"WHAT WAS THAT NOISE, NOIR?" Horace continued to shout, walking over and turning Vince's textbook the correct way up.

"Noise sir?" Vince looked genuinely confused. However, he was saved from further questions by the fire alarm going off (This was at the same time as Dangerous Dave's shenanigans with the magnesium).

They all stood in silence for a few seconds.

"Well?" Horace cried exasperatedly.

Vince shrugged.

"It's the fire alarm you dimwit!"

"So you can hear it too?"

"AGH!" Horace turned to the waiting year eights. "On your feet children, and outside! Quickly! That means you too Noir!"

Vince picked up his hat and followed everyone outside onto the playground. Smoke was pouring from a window in the science block. Horace sighed. "It seems Noir, that you are not to blame for once. Glebe! What are you playing at?"

Mr Glebe was covered in smoky marks and was running around in a small circle with his hair on fire.

"We should really do something…." Tom muttered.

"Yes…." Simone said dully.

"We really should." I said, inspecting my fingernails.

Meanwhile, in an abandoned sex shop across town  
_  
"Trapped in a box by a cockney nut job  
Have a cup of tea, have a cup of tea,  
I'm the hitcher, let me put you in the picture  
Creepin' in your room in the dead of night  
With my solo polo vision_…"

It could have gone on like this for several hours…thankfully, one of the Hitchers henchmen burst in (I don't know their names, could anyone enlighten me??? For this instance think of the one played by Rich Fulcher).

"Boss, Boss!"

"You bloody idiot!" The Hitcher cried. "You interrupted my theme song. Y'know, track 12, in brackets, he's pure evil, he kicked a raccoon's face onto Jesus' face…Watch the Live DVD at Brixton, you ponces, and you'll understand what me cockney mouth is ramblin' on about." He turned back to his henchman. "What do you want now?"

"I've got good news boss." The henchman explained. "You're ten points ahead of your opponent."

The Hitched laughed evilly. "Excellent! After that twat 'Big Leg' and the bloke in a dress defeated me at Brixton, I thought it was all over for us. But now this MP angle is exactly what we need to get the ol' Hitcher back in the public eye."

"But what yer gonna do when you're elected Boss?"

"Well first I'm goin' ter get me revenge on that nonce Rudi. Then the bloke with the moustache, the shaman, the bloke that has really skinny legs and their gorilla friend."

"An' then?"

"I'm takin' over the world, son! Teach them all not to stick me in a fucking box with YOU TWO, FOR TWO HUNDRED FUCKING YEARS!" He started pacing. "Did you get the badges?"

The henchman produced a box of green badges with 'Vote Hitcher' written on them.

"Yeah, great, now go get us some pie and mash from down the shop. Make it quick mind you, I have plenty of dolphin suits left."

"Technically they're porpoises-"

"JUST GO!"

* * *

** So the hitcher is back to his evil ways! What will our heroes do? more importantly - will it mess up Vinces hair? Find out next time!**


	5. Flouncey Flouncey

CHAPTER FIVE, WITH ADDED NABOO!

* * *

Howard Moon, man of action, leapt into the small filthy van the four flatmates used to get from A to B and sometimes, if they were feeling daring, C. He drove to the school quickly, to warn Vince of what he had just witnessed on the news. As he pulled out onto the main road, he spotted Naboo and Bollo trudging up the road, laden with Shamensburys bags. The carpet was in the shop.

"What are you doing?" Naboo asked as Howard pulled up beside them.

"No time to explain, get in, we have to find Vince and warn him."

Naboo, being a shaman and therefore knowing danger when he heard about it, opened the door and jumped in. Bollo followed, muttering "I got a bad feeling about dis."

They drove through the town like a Booshified Grand Prix. As they drove, Howard filled the shaman in on the events of the day. When they arrived at St. Fred's secondary school, it was lunchtime and many teenage boys where chasing around the playground after a football, like complete twats. Howard parked the car in the bus bay (which is probably not entirely legal, but hey ho…) and they all got out, to try and find Vince.

Running round the school to a musical montage, Howard finally found Vince, eating sandwiches with a few of the pupils.

"And that," He was saying "Is how the brave Mods dragged the country, kicking and screaming towards a new age of music and fashion…"

"Vince! There you are. Listen, I need a word…"

"Is that your dad?" One of the pupils piped up. Howard scowled.

"Can it wait Howard? I was just finishing off my presentation to the kids." Vince smiled. "They're really getting into it!"

Howard, being short of patience at this point, pulled Vince to his feet and away from the bemused school children. "If you're ever confronted with mod wolves" The electro ponce shouted to his group of admirers as he was dragged away. "Just tell them you know Vince Noir, King of the Mods! Works every time!"

After meeting up with Naboo and Bollo, the four went to the only place in school guaranteed to be completely empty. The library.

The four charged in and slammed the door shut, which wasn't a good move. Mrs Wood, the librarian came flouncing in, all glasses chains and bookmarks. Fortunately she was not a fan of the music of jazz or Old Gregg might have had stiff competition.

She was also married. Which is a turn-off to some people, I have found…

What was I talking about?

Oh yes, so Mrs Wood enters stage right, flouncey, flouncey etc etc…and screams "SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY!" Which is a bit contradictory if you ask me. Our four brave booshers also thought this.

Vince turned to Howard. "Rough her up a bit will you Howard?"

One 'Nanageddon' reference later, Mrs Wood was out cold and Howard turned back to Vince. "Right. We're here to tell you about the Hitcher being back and his plan to become MP."

Vince nodded calmly.

"The Hitcher's back and he has a plan to become MP."

Vince looked alarmed. Never again would he ignore Top Shops strict changing room rules. "What are we going to do Howard?"

Howard turned to the camera and gazed off into the distance (well, as much of a distance as you can have in a small library, which was actually over to the reference section…). "Don't worry little man. We'll think of a plan." (Hey, that rhymed! Well he IS a jazz poet…thing…)

Bollo had failed to notice what was so interesting about the reference section and said: "So what your plan?"

Howard looked a bit thrown off guard. "Well, I, er…"

"You no have one do you?"

Howard looked down at his shoes. "No, but I have ideas."

"Hold that thought." Naboo said monotonously (also he felt it was time for him to say something as, now even his _familiar_ had had more lines than him) "Howard has the ideas, but no strategy. I know someone with strategy but no ideas…"

Howard raised an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting?"

Naboo, like everyone else in Howard's life, ignored him. "Come on Bollo. We need to get the carpet. Howard, you stay here. Vince, lunch hour is almost over, you need to go and teach. And I…" He dropped his voice as he and Bollo left the library. "Will go and see the Council of Shamen…and the twat Saboo…"

**

* * *

-gasp- Sacre Bleu! The Council of Shamen? What will our brave boosh lads do next? Find out next time!**


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